You Make Me Real
by vasoline
Summary: Amara always thought the jumpsuits prisoners wore were tacky and unflattering. Surprisingly, it looked good on Curly. She didn't think much didn't look good on him. "Orange looks real nice on you." He cracked a toothy grin.
1. Chapter 1

Category: Outsiders

Title: You Make Me Real

Pairings: Curly Shepard x OC

Ratings: M

Genres: Drama / Romance

Published: Saturday, February 8th, 11pm

* * *

**YOU MAKE ME REAL**

_"The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only."_ ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

**CHAPTER ONE**

The bowling alley was strangely barren. Kathryn, Laurel and her had decided to come here. She has no problem with it, but Laurel seemed to be wishing she was somewhere else. There was a keg party at Anthony Sheldon's house, Kathryn and Laurel were invited but since Anthony's girlfriend was Eleanor Cohan, Amara wasn't invited. No matter how hard the girl tried, Eleanor would not ease up.

She just didn't like Amara.

Kathryn decided that we could just go to the Ribbon and go bowling instead.

"Girls, this blows." Laurel said with a sigh. "Where are all the boys?"

Kathryn laughed at their friend and pointed to the left. There were a couple boys over by the pinball machines in leather jackets, smoking cigarettes.

"There's some."

Laurel scoffed and took a sip of her soda. "Yeah just my type. Poor."

Amara found herself subconsciously looking away then. It wasn't a bad thing to her to grow up poor, she had for quite some time and she still hadn't left working class. But on the west side, if you were poor, you were trash. That's just how it worked, and Amara played along. She looked back over at her friends and giggled along softly.

"You're right, though," Kathryn said. "I'd like to meet up with some nice boys."

Amara nodded. "Yeah, we got all dressed up and there's no one to show it off to!"

Amara had been in high hopes tonight. She put on her favourite dress. It was a very light blue and it was sleeveless. It was the nicest thing she owned and she always wore it when she felt good. It seemed it was put on for no reason this time. They had already played three games and the only people who had came in was other girls who hadn't had not gotten the invite either and the scattered greaser.

"I'm bored." Laurel took another load slurp of her drink. "Wanna go see a movie, maybe?"

Both the other girls agreed and they left the bowling alley.

It was dark now, it had been bright when they arrived. It was getting a bit chilly, too. Winter was just around the corner.

The girls walked for a bit and talked amongst themselves. The Ribbon was a hot spot, so it was crowded as they walked the streets. Cars and people zoomed by.

They made it to the movie house and it was little denser than the alley but it was primarily crowded with greasers and lower middle class kids. A few Soc's she recognized stood by the entrance but that was it.

"That's Heather and Cherry!" Laurel said, leaving her friends and scurrying over to two redheaded girls.

"I'll go see what's playing." Kathryn said a moment later, so Amara was left by herself.

She leaned against the wall of the movie house and stared off at the cars flashing by. She felt herself shiver, it really was getting cold.

Someone came over and stood next to her. She didn't even look over, but she heard the strike of a match and then she smelt tobacco.

"Hey little lady," Said the person next to her. Amara glanced over at the figure next to her. "You're looking good tonight."

He was a greaser, you could always tell by the hair. His was a little different though, it wasn't fully greased back and some of it fell into the guys face. He wore a fitted white shirt and blue jeans and there was a leather jacket hanging off his shoulder.

"Thanks." She muttered back half-heartedly.

"Name?"

"Amara Robinson, yours?" She politely said.

"Curly Shepard."

She'd heard of him, not exactly him, but his older brother Tim. He was the same age as Henry. Henry mentioned Tim a couple times, he knew him because he attended Will Rogers till his sophomore year. He was in a gang.

"Any relation to Tim?" She asked, though she already knew.

Curly looked briefly taken aback. "Yeah, how'd ya know?"

"My brother was friends with him."

Amara didn't miss the way Curlys face pinched up. She knew why, greasers were just as stuck up as Soc's just in a different way. She knew that from looking at her, Curly had pictured Henry to be some pansy sort. Henry wasn't anything like that.

"Whats his name?"

"Henry."

Curly seemed like he recognized the name and he nodded. "Tuff guy."

She nodded too.

Laurel called her name and she said a short goodbye to the boy beside her.

He didn't say anything. Not until she was further away; then he screamed out after her, "Nice dress, dollface."

Amara didn't turn back. Her face heated up and when she looked up and saw her friends' faces on her she blushed even more.

Avoiding confrontation, she said nothing and just walked over to the concession stand.

"What film is playing?" Laurel asked as they waited in line.

"Dark Intruder." Heather said. She and Cherry had decided to join the group.

"It's supposed to be spooky." She added.

Laurel groaned. "Only just another reason to be with a boy!"

They all shared an eye roll at their whiney friend. Laurel was boy orientated, not much else mattered to here. She always needed a boyfriend or she was lost. It was one of her more annoying traits.

"Oh hush up, Laurel ." Cherry snapped, immediately gaining the attention of all the girls. "You don't need a boy for everything."

Laurel stayed silent the rest of the way through the line, and she hardly said a word as we waited for the movie to start.

Amara didn't know Cherry very well. She knew the basics, she was rich, nicer than most, and generous. She didn't have enough to form a solid opinion. She seemed okay.

"I saw you talking to Curly Shepard." Cherry said to Amara as they walked out of the theatre.

Amara felt nervous. "Uh, yeah…"

"That's nice. You see, greasers I think, aren't so different from us." Cherry told her. "I can't tell the others this, they'd just shun me. But you seem like you could understand."

Amara didn't know where Cherry would get such an idea, they didn't know each other and the girl had seen her talk to a greaser once in her life. Maybe Cherry knew who she was, where she came from.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, her only nervous habit and responded. "I understand," was all she said.

Cherry seemed put off by such a brief answer but Amara wasn't exactly sure what to say. She wasn't even a part of the "us" Cherry had mentioned. She was purely middle class. She had no real business in the Soc and Greaser feud, she did agree with Cherry though.

"You don't think it's weird?" Cherry asked further.

Amara shook her head. "No. Why should money define us?"

This seemed like the response Cherry had been looking for and she smiled small.

"It was nice talking to you, Amara." Cherry said as a goodbye. Amara repeated her and went back to Kathryn who was ready to head on home for the night.

All Amara could think about was Cherry's words and that cocky greaser.

X X X

Curly threw his jacket over the couch and flopped down on the cushions.

He thought about Amara, she looked so done up and just like those rich kids looked like. But he remembered Henry Robinson, he used to be over here quite a bit. Not so much after Tim got heavily into the gang stuff, but before that Henry would always be up for a drink or a poker game. He was always clad in a t shirt and jeans, just like the rest of them.

Amara was clean cut, in an expensive dress. It didn't make sense in his head. He knew the family had gotten some money, but not enough to even dream of moving to the West Side.

She was a pretty little thing, though. She was teasing him innocently in that tight blue dress.

"What're ya doin'?" Behind him now was his step-dad, Mike. Curly just ignored him.

"I said, what're ya doin'?" Mike asked again.

"What does it look like I'm doin', Mike? I'm watchin' some god damn TV."

He scowled. "Yeah well you shouldn't be comin' home so late, ya hear me?"

Curly didn't take orders from Mike very well, the guy was a dick. Curly didn't have one ounce of respect for the guy.

"I don't got to listen to you," Curly said with a sharpness in his voice. "You ain't my Ma and you sure as hell ain't my dad."

Mike laughed. "Glad I ain't your dad, son. I don't reckon being six feet unders very fun."

That was it. Curly was done being calm. He hated this guy, and had no god damn clue why his mom married this guy.

Curly pushed the man as hard as he could up against the wall, there was a thud and Mike's head smashed against the dry wall. He hoped it hurt.

Curly usually lost against Michael, but he had the advantage since he had caught his step-dad off guard. With one swift moment, he curled up his fist and swung at him with full force directly into Mike's nose. When he pulled away it was already bleeding. That made him somewhat pleased.

But now Mike was furious and Curly no longer had the one up. Michael knocked Curly to the floor and began to kick him repeatedly.

"Ungrateful bastard." Was all Curly could hear over the blows.

He managed to pull himself up and went and punched Mike again, and again and Mike kicked and hit back. Until, they were pulled away from each other. In between the two was Tim, and deathly look in his eye but Curly couldn't make out who it was directed at.

"What the fuck are you guys doin'?" Tim asked.

Curly struggled to get out of his brothers grip but it was no use, Tim was evenstronger when he was angry.

"Just let me at him, Tim." Curly said, rage still inside of him. "Imma kill 'em."

"Bastard was talking dirt about dad, I'm gonna kill 'em."

Tim still ignored Curly and turned to his step-dad. "That true, Mike?"

Mike shrugged. "I dunno," he replied dumbly.

Curly wanted to rip his throat out.

"Go away." Tim ordered to Mike. Their step-dad scoffed at the demand but left anyway. Curly still wanted to tear him apart but he was glad the guy was gone. Now it was just him and Tim.

Tim looked at him like he was stupid. "You gotta control your temper, Curl. This shit ain't gonna get you nowhere."

"I hate him." Was Curly's only defense.

"I do, too."

Curly spit out some left over blood. It hit the light green carpet and was sure to stain. Ma would sure tear into him tomorrow, but he didn't bother to care right then. His ribs hurt and he just wanted to sleep.

Tim left him standing alone in the living room. Soon after he padded up to the bathroom.

He gave himself a once over. His face was red from the punches and there was a couple scratches from Mike's class ring, but it was nothing extreme or unusual. It still mad him mad.

His Ma stuck his head in the door, she didn't look angry.

She silently made her way to him. "You have to stop makin' him angry, baby."

She picked up the cloth that was laid on the side of the sink and attempted to clean off his face.

Curly swatted her away, but was careful not to hurt her. His mother was skinny and fragile. She'd been that way since their dad had died; she had hardly eaten or slept correctly since that. She thought nobody noticed, so Curly, Tim, and Angela pretended they didn't. It wasn't discussed, it was just something they all knew they had to do.

"Ma, he's no good." Curly said roughly. "And I ain't gonna be nice to him."

He heard her sigh and she dropped the cloth. Her eyes were sad and she looked worn out.

"Okay, Curly." She said and walked away. Curly followed her out and just went to his room.

He hated Mike. He hated Mike more than he hated anyone, even more than Johnny Rogers who screwed his old girl and slashed his tires the same day. Mike was the worst thing that ever happened to their family but their mother was naive and ignored all the abuse since he never once touched her. To her, it was their fault. He curled up into his bed. He needed to stop thinking about his god damn step-father.

He turned on his radio and somehow got to sleep.

Orginally posted on my other account. But I think I'm done with that account.


	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter! Reviews please :)

Credit to Jimmy Eat World's "23" for the lyrics.

* * *

**YOU MAKE ME REAL**

_I won't always want what I will never have._

**CHAPTER TWO**

Curly watched out for Tim as he made a deal with some middle class kid. This was the gang's newest thing, selling marijuana and LSD. LSD wasn't illegal in Oklahoma yet it was hard to find if you weren't one of those "flower childs", but marijuana was and if Tim was caught trafficking it he could have two years to life, normally. But now he was selling ten grams of it to a minor, which could get him at least double the years. So Curly was a lookout.  
"Hey man I just want my fifteen bucks and I'm out of your hair."  
Curly looked at the other teen. He appeared to be worried. "I only have ten." He said quietly.  
Tim's face turned from calm, to pissed off. "Alright. Gimme it. I want the other five by next week, ya dig?"  
The boy nodded.  
"Good." Said Tim. "If ya don't got my cash by then I'll be lookin' for ya but with the rest of the gang, ok?"  
"Okay." Replied the boy and then he ran off.  
Tim came back to his brother and he looked less pleased than when they had first arrived. It seem frustrated which was out of character.  
"These kids don't know shit about responsibility," Tim harshly mumbled. "You may be a pain in the ass Curly but ya know the meanin' of responsibility. Kids get dumber every year."  
Curly nodded agreeingly, a second later Tim was gone.  
The streets were dead. The only people in sight were a couple Negroes and a few kids younger than him, they must have been on the skip. It was a Monday afternoon, couldn't be much past one. Tim always did his deals at times like these; when most people were busy doing something else. It was smart, but it made him miss more school which was never good.  
His mother didn't have many rules but passing school was a must. He had to get his grade twelve or he was out. Tim had gotten his and ran a gang at the same time, if Curly didn't pass this year he'd be ashamed of himself. But no one would be that surprised, Tim always outdid Curly. He got the hotter chicks, he got the better reputation, and was overall more respected. If he dropped out or flunked, it would not be a shocker. He was trying his hardest not to though.  
He chose to go into Benny's, the gang usually hung out here if they weren't down in the warehouse or actually attending school.  
Inside was Dean, Ricky and Steven. Dean was closer to Tim's age, he didn't talk much but he could sure give a beating and when he did talk, it was like ice; cold and rough. Ricky was a year younger than him, he was obnoxious and always had a weed on him; he was a real good business man, though. That's why Tim kept him close. He could get the stuck up priss Eleanor Cohan to drop some acid if he really tried. Steven was a good friend of his, one of the only in the gang Curly actually didn't mind being around. He was right on, and always down for a drink or a poker game. Tim liked him for different reasons, Steven was loyal and took orders well.  
Curly pulled over a chair and sat outside the booth.  
"We were just talkin' about ya, man." Was Ricky's greeting. "You hear about Nancy?"  
Nancy Reynolds was Curlys ex-girlfriend and the only one he ever felt anything for at all. That was a mistake, she was a two-timer. She fooled around on him with Johnny while Curly was stuck in the reformatory for six weeks. She didn't even apologize when he found out, just shrugged. He decided then she was a bitch and nothing else.  
"What about her?" He said coldly. She was far from his favorite topic.  
Ricky smirked. "She's knocked up, I tell ya! And not by Johnny, it's Wayne's kid."  
It didn't surprise him that Nancy had fooled around on Johnny, but it surprised him that it was Wayne Ackerman. That was a good kid if Curly ever knew one, he once got mixed up with the River Kings back in the day and got locked up but other than that everything Wayne did was model citizen worthy. Someone should have warned him about Nancy.  
"Poor kid." Curly said.  
"Hey, Benny," He called out to the man at the counter. "Can ya get us some cokes?"  
The man rolled his eyes. Benny pretended to dislike them all, except Tim. He was always nice to Tim. But either way they all knew was an act, Benny liked them all and even if he didn't, he liked them in here because they boosted his business.  
"Why ain't you at school?" Dean asked Curly. He'd never admit it but Dean made him uneasy.  
"Tim needed me for some drug shit." Curly said lowly, not wanting anybody to here outside of their group. There didn't seem to be anyone else in Benny's but he wasn't taking a chance on getting him and Tim caught.  
"He should've asked one of us. You should be in school." Dean spoke again. It wasn't often he talked to Curly but things like this were important to him.  
"Eh, I guess he was runnin' late. I'll just go tomorrow."  
Dean was quiet again but it was easily seen that he was displeased by Curlys answer. Deans jaw clicked and his eyes were misty. He always got like that when he was ticked off. He never said anything about it again though.  
Tim had brought Curly into the gang stuff since he was just thirteen. Dean was against that all together. He didn't think you should bring your baby brother in stuff like that, especially so young and he had held a grudge over it since. They were seventeen then, now they were twenty one.  
Dean also said that Tim should have let his little brother make his own choices, not drag him into a certain kind of life. Curly had thought that was funny; he thought it was set from the start what kind of life he was going to have. But he sort of appreciated what Dean was trying to do, it made him feel good.  
Steven sparked up a cig. "Let's get out of here guys."  
"Where ya wanna go?" Ricky asked.  
"I'm hungry," said Steven. "Let's go to that grocery store up the street."  
The grocery store sold sandwiches, subs, stuff like that. The boys usually walked there from school to eat at lunch, but now it must have been past three.  
"Yeah, sounds good." Curly agreed.  
They abandoned their half empty cokes and left.

**X X X**

Amara got to Safeway and she flung the stores ugly red shirt over her pink dress. It didn't look very nice but she hadn't had time to change.  
"Hey, Mr. Anderson." She greeted her boss. He was Randy's dad but no one had seen Randy for quite some time. He never even graduated, just disappeared. Mr. Anderson was just as pleasant as ever though.  
"Afternoon, Miss Robinson."  
Mister Anderson was one of the nicest social elite fathers she knew. The grocery store was on the East Side of Tulsa and she needed a job in order to afford her friends activities, not a single Social ever worked, it would be a give-away of her middle class life. Anderson promised to keep it a secret from his son when she first got the job back when she was fourteen. He had kept it well.  
She worked over in the deli and hot and ready foods. All she had to do was serve customers and put frozen foods into an oven then and again. It was a slack job.  
Amara wrapped her long blonde hair into a net and stood at the cash, waiting for her first customer.  
It was a young woman and her little girl who came to her first.  
The little girl was precious. She had gorgeous red hair and bright green eyes.  
"We want two sandwiches please!" The young girl squealed excitedly. The mother smiled at Amara.  
"And two Pepsi's." She added for her daughter.  
Amara laughed at the girl's cuteness. "Sure thing, sweetheart." She said.  
Five minutes later the sandwiches were made and the girls were on their way.  
"Thanks. Come again!" Amara said to them as she was supposed to.  
Boys clad in worn leather jackets and blue jeans. She recognized him right away. She realized she had seen him here before but she never really paid any mind to him. Curly Shepard walked into her area.  
He and three other guys pulled two of the small tables together. Amara hated when the kids came in and did that. The noise went right through her. It also left dark black streaks on the floor. She pretended she didn't notice.  
"I'll order this time." She overheard Curly say. She hoped he didn't recognize her.  
"Hey, can I get four barbecue sandwiches with fries and three cokes and a water."  
"Sure thing." Amara said and rung him up. "That'll be twenty nine cents."  
On Friday when she had seen him she never paid much attention. Now in bright day light she could see him perfect. He was actually quite handsome. He a pretty golden brown eyes and a crooked smile. There's one thing she noticed that hadn't been there on Friday. He had a bruise over his left eye and a long cut going down his right cheek. She guessed it was from a fight or something, those happened a lot on his side of town.  
"So you ain't a Soc, huh?" Curly asked her as he counted up his change. It was out of nowhere, she hadn't even been sure he had knew who she was.  
"No." She confirmed.  
"Could've fooled me." He grinned widely and she found her heart racing. She had the same reaction when Freddy Wheaton looked at her, the schools stud.  
"Uh- what do you mean?" She played dumb. She knew what he was talking about; she was fooling everyone.  
Greasers could bring themselves to be friends with middle class but Socials never brought themselves down to that level, anyone with less money was shunned. But that weekend he had seen her hanging around them and now today he saw her working as a server at the East Side's most popular grocery store. She was a fake.  
"You know what I'm talkin' about, doll."  
She smiled warily and nodded.  
He laughed. "What's so good about bein' one them you gotta fake it?" He didn't seem to be mocking her, he seemed genuinely confused. She didn't know the exact answer. Maybe it was just the way other girls looked up to her and if you were one of them you were automatically popular.  
"I don't know." She answered finally.  
"Well," Curly looked back at his friends. "This Thursday, come with me? I'll show ya why it's ok to be poor."  
Amara wanted to say yes, surprisingly. Something about this guy intrigued her but she knew she couldn't, it wouldn't be right and it could ruin everything she had worked for.  
"I can't," She declined. "I gotta work that day."  
Curly wasn't fazed. "When do ya get off?"  
"Eight thirty."  
He grinned at her again. "Alright. I'll pick you up here eight thirty on Thursday."  
She opened her mouth to say something but he had taken his sandwiches and was already half way back to his table.  
One of the boys in the group looked her over suspiciously. Awkwardly she smiled and he smiled back shaking his head. She was confused but said nothing.  
The boys left about a half hour later. She never talked to Curly after he paid for the food. He never even said anything when she came over to give all the boys their drinks.  
He had probably been joking when he said that stuff about taking her out and she felt stupid for taking it so seriously.


	3. Chapter 3

Song: Bruce Springsteen, It's Hard to be a Saint in the City

Review would be nice... :)

* * *

**YOU MAKE ME REAL**

_And them South Side sisters sure look pretty;_  
_The cripple on the corner cries out "Nickels for your pity,"_  
_And them downtown boys they sure talk gritty._

**CHAPTER THREE**

Tim was droning on about something but Curly wasn't listening. It wasn't important anyways, just something about football. Tim didn't talk sports often but when he did Curly tuned him out. It was annoying.  
Tim hadn't stopped talking about the cowboys or something, Curly didn't follow football at all, but Curly quietly tried to leave without being noticed.  
It didn't work.  
"Where do ya think you're goin'?" Tim said gruffly. "I was talkin' to you."  
Curly groaned. He much preferred when Tim talked about cars or the gangs next activity. Everything he was saying now he didn't give a shit about.  
"I gotta go get ready." He told him and before he could say anything else, Curly ran up the stairs.  
He had to pick up Amara in thirty minutes. She was a "high-class" girl it seemed, though she couldn't be above lower-middle class. He still thought he should look good, he couldn't look like white trash and expect and girl like that to get in his car.  
He re-greased his hair and changed his jeans, the ones he had on were full of dirt. He didn't know if he should throw on his usual t shirt and leather jacket or his plaid button up.  
"Curly, ya got any cash?" Angela barged into his room. She was done up like a real greasy girl. Her makeup was dark and too much. He hated it when she did that.  
"No, I don't. Get out."  
She did the opposite, she came further into his room and looked at his shirts thrown on his bed.  
"You got a date?" She asked. He didn't say anything.  
Angel rolled her eyes. "Lose the leather jacket. Put that white t-shirt on and throw the plaid one on over it. Leave it unbuttoned."  
He was about to thank her but she took the two dollars off his dresser and that pissed him off, so he said nothing.  
He got dressed and went back downstairs.  
Instead of Tim in the living room it was Mike. Curly kept walking, he was not dealing with that son of a bitch right now; he was in a good mood.  
"Hey!" Mike yelled after him as he was leaving. Curly slammed the door.  
When he got to Safeway his watch read 8:23.  
Amara wasn't off yet so he decided to just go in. She wouldn't be that busy anyways.  
She looked just like she had on Monday. She was in the Safeway shirt and had a hairnet holding all of her hair. It honestly confused him, that Friday when he had met her she was dressed to the nines and he had caught a glimpse of her had school the other day she looked the same way. But when she came here she looked like the rest of the common folk.  
"Hello, doll." Amara looked up and she appeared to be surprised.  
"You're here." She said in disbelief.  
He chuckled at her. "Sure am. I told ya I was."  
She nodded. "I know, I guess I just thought you were joking."  
"Nope. You ready to go?"  
She nodded. "I just gotta go give this money to Mr. Anderson then I can leave."  
"Alright. I'll wait by the doors."  
Amara didn't take very long, it just seemed like seconds and she was with him again.  
Curly found it odd when she flung a woman's leather biker jacket over her blouse, he found it odder to see her in jeans. Maybe she was trying to fit the part, since he was taking her out to see how good it was to embrace who she actually was. Or maybe she wasn't as prissy as he had once thought. She looked good like that, he thought. But in a different way.  
"So where are we going?" She asked as they hopped into his car.  
He hadn't thought much about where he was going to bring her. It was a Thursday, so Buck's wouldn't be a good idea. He needed somewhere that represented the East Side life though.  
He decided on going to the Dingo.  
They pulled into the lot. "The Dingo?" She questioned.  
"Yeah. Got a problem, princess?"  
She shook her head. "Not at all."

It was crowded inside and he felt bad. It was rowdy inside, boys yelled across the room and girls danced crazily in the empty floor. People were everywhere.

He couldn't even find a seat. He bribed Mark Jennings with fifteen cents to go elsewhere with his boys.

Mark was a good guy. Tim thought about recruiting him a couple times. But Bryon, Marks best friend, was an asshole. He hated that guy. He was dating Angel and neither he nor Tim liked that all that much. He didn't treat her very nicely and Angel had it bad enough at home, she didn't need to have shit like that happening with her boyfriend too.

"You're real easy on the eyes, baby girl," Mark flirted shamelessly with Amara. "Real cute. What's your name?"

Curly wanted to punch him. Amara smiled.

"I'm Amara. Pleasure to meet you, Mark."

Mark smirked at Curly. Mark did things like this often. Like he said before, Mark was a cool guy. But he liked to get people riled up. Once he had Curly convinced that Nancy had hooked up with him while they were still together, he had been raging then. The guy found things like that funny and Curly always fell for his shit.

"If ya ever get tired of that pussy," He pointed at him. "Give me a call."

He scribbled his number on a napkin in a hurry and passed it to Amara. Mark winked at Curly and left.

He looked down at Amara, she had a sheepish smile on her face and her cheeks were rosy from blushing. That made him angry, Mark got him every time.

"What's good here?" Amara asked him. She hadn't even picked up the menu, a saucy remark was bouncing on the tip of his tongue but he held it back.

"They have the best cheeseburgers." He said instead.

"Alright. I'll have a burger, fries and a strawberry shake."

Curly raised and brow. Most broads him came out with wouldn't eat in front of him, just ordered a water or a soda. He liked how Amara wasn't embarrassed.

"What? I've been at work all afternoon. I'm starving!" She folded her arms defensively. He thought it was kind of cute.

He laughed and shook his head. "Nothing," he said.

After they ate Curly drove around mindlessly through the streets of a Tulsa with her.

"Where we goin' now?" Amara asked. He noticed that since she had been hanging out with him her accent and slang came out a lot more. He liked the way she talked to him better.

"Home I guess." Curly shrugged. "You got yourself a curfew, don't ya?"

"No. My mom's working night shift at the hospital and my dad's dead to the world by now." She informed him with a smile.

"You can bring me home, if you want. I know I ain't like the others you hang out with."

He let out a laugh, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, like I'm not a greaser and I don't swear or drink or do illegal things." She said shyly.

"Now, doll. You must think I'm just some stereotype." He teased with a grin.

"No- I guess, I don't know. But you are Tim's brother."

He hated when people compared him to Tim. He knew he was glaring at Amara and he didn't have the willpower to stop.

"I ain't Tim, ya hear?" Curly was stern and cold.

"I hear." Amara mumbled quietly back.

They didn't spend too much time together after that, she told him where she lived and they drove there. They didn't talk much either. He wanted to and he felt he should apologize but he didn't.

He stopped in front of her house but she didn't get out right away.

He cleared his throat. "Do you want to-... do something again sometime?"

It wasn't an apology but at least it let her know he wasn't still mad at her.

She searched through her purse and found a pen and on the same napkin Mark had wrote his number, Amara wrote hers and gave it to him.

That made him feel a bit satisfied that he had charmed her more than Mark, so much she would just throw away the guys number.

"Call me if you ever want to."

She left after that and he drove away and went home himself.

Mike was nowhere to be seen when he got to his house and neither was his car. That immediately made his night better.

Tim was sitting on the kitchen table with a bunch of papers scattered around him.

He found Tim like this a lot. He was always busy with stuff that involved the gang. He stayed up late most nights and a lot of nights he never even went to sleep. Curly didn't understand it but he guessed that's why Tim was the leader and not him.

It was Saturday and Curly was debating whether or not to call Amara. He was planning on going to Buck's tonight and he said he wanted to show Amara what was good about this type of living. He couldn't think of much more than Buck's. It had dancing and beer and sex. It was different than the Soc's keg and river bottom parties.

He dialled the number from the napkin.

Around nine he picked Amara up. She walked to his truck in a miniskirt. He noticed now she had very long legs. He liked them.

"You better watch out for me tonight." She warned.

On the phone, she had been hesitant to come. He promised her he would watch her and make sure she was all right. She agreed after that.

He laughed. "I will."

"You better."

He passed her a beer and she declined, like he thought she would. Bucks was like it usually was. Smoke filled, with drunk sweaty bodies everywhere. Amara didn't seem to be enjoying herself.

"Curly, baby," It was Nancy. She looked next to him and pinched up her face. "Who's this?"

Amara wasn't the least fazed. "Amara Robinson." She smiled, it was fake but polite.

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Are you Curlys new fling?"

"No. We're just friends." Amara said. Curly wished she would have lied and covered for him. He didn't want to deal with Nancy. He also wasn't going to do anything with her especially since she was probably knocked up.

"Oh. Good." Instantaneously, Nancy became warmer towards Amara.

"Well, Curl. Since your single, care for a dance?"

He really did care, he didn't want to be around her. She was a bitch. He finally felt something for a girl and that girl turned out to be terrible. He didn't want reminders. But it wasn't a question. Nancy dug her long fingernails into his arm and dragged him into the sea of dancing girls and guys.

He glanced back at Amara every now and then. She awkwardly leaned against the bars counter alone.

Nancy twirled him around again and when he looked in Amara's direction, she was gone. He had promised her he would watch out for her.

Nancy kissed him, and Amara left his mind. He didn't want anything to do with this and he pushed her off. He couldn't go back to her again.

"Don't touch me." He said coldly. Nancy just rolled her eyes like she knew he would crawl back to her at some point. That always made him mad.

He walked away from her and started looking for Amara. She was in that short skirt and her shirt was tight. The guys here would go after the fresh meat like wild dogs. Some of them would be harmless, but some would take advantage of a small girl like that. One of the things Curly never would do was rape a girl. He couldn't imagine how anyone could. If someone laid a hand on Angela that way he would kill them in a second.

"Amara!" He yelled but it was useless. The music was blasting too loud for anyone to hear him.

He pushed through sweaty people trying to find the blonde he brought here.

He didn't know whether to be relieved or infuriated him he saw her in the arms of his brother. They danced slowly, and firmly pressed together. He didn't know why, but the sight gave him a weird feeling.

"Jesus, there ya are." He said. "I was worried."

Tim smirked. "Don't worry, Curl. I took good care of her."

Amara laughed and then turned to Curly. "Yeah, don't worry. He was good company."

Over Amara's head Curly glared icily at his older brother, whose smirk just got bigger. He did this on purpose just to piss him off, like he always did.

"I think it's time we take you home now." Curly said but his eyes never left Tim's.

Amara's face contorted into a pout. "Aw, but it was actually getting fun."

Her droopy sad eyes almost made him give in but Tim spoke and ruined all chance of that.

"Yeah, Curly. Why don't you let her stay so me and her can continue our fun?" Tim was a real son of a bitch. He had to get him ticked off any chance he could get.

The jukebox switched over to Elvis's "Hey Little Girl" and Curly grabbed Amara's hand.

"We can stay one more song," He said. "But you're dancin' with me, not my idiot brother."

Amara laughed and gave her eyes a little playful roll and willingly danced with him.

He said it would just be one song but it must have been ten more before he remembered to take Amara home.


End file.
